


Freefall

by OctaviaPenrose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Clexa, F/F, F/M, M/M, Murphamy - Freeform, The 100 - Freeform, linktavia, none ship based, not ship based, rellamy, the 100 au, the 100 college, the 100 in college, wicken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctaviaPenrose/pseuds/OctaviaPenrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calinfornia, Berkley:</p><p>Clarke only wants to pass with sky high grades, make her family proud and get her medical degree, however not only one, but two people get in the way of that. </p><p>Raven wants to forget that her boyfriend, Finn, is probably cheating and absorbs herself in her degree and unfortunately other curricular activities that will probably end in complete disaster.</p><p>Jasper is blindly in love with Octavia, who will never return his affection and he only when he it goes horribly wrong he realizes, she might not be the one at all.</p><p>Bellamy doesn't know what he is doing with his life anymore, he is trying to support Octavia through college. However when he goes to visit her for the weekend his life becomes maybe a little more interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. See-through lies

**Author's Note:**

> link to trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y5U5Rw8eiOk

Clarke  
If one was to judge by Octavia’s hurried, clumsy movements, they would be lead to believe that she was for once actually excited about going to a party. The dark haired beauty was sitting by the desk trying to apply eyeliner and mascara, but she kept hissing and clenching her teeth together every time she made an error in the Picasso painting slowly being applied to her face.  
Clarke looked up from her biology book, making sure to put her finger on the line where she stopped, “do you need any help?” she asked Octavia.  
“No, Clarke,” Octavia snapped though clenched teeth, “I don’t need your help. Don’t you need to get ready? Don’t tell me you’re not going – again?” She stopped her makeup mission and turned around in her chair to face Clarke who sat on the bed. Octavia was to say it frankly, extremely pretty. In the beginning of the year all the guys had been at her heels, but eventually they backed off, once they realized she had a quite large man for a boyfriend.  
“I don’t think I’m going.” Clarke muttered, shrinking back on the bed in her, returning to the description of cells on her lap.  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Octavia Responded promptly, “You can’t have any more homework to do, exams are over.”  
“I promised Wells I’d study with him later.” Clarke lied, hoping Octavia hadn’t chatted with Wells lately, since Clarke knew for a fact that he too was going.  
“You’re full of crap, Clarke,” Octavia declared, “everyone is going, even the do-goody Mayor’s son.”  
Clarke gulped, closed her eyes for a moment, knowing her lie had been caught and then sighed. “Well, I’m not going,” she said with as much determination as she could muster, “I’m not much for Monty’s parties, they’re so loud.”  
“So? Take an aspirin before we leave-“  
“You aren’t supposed to mix medicine and alcohol, you know that Octavia-“  
“I’m not dead yet, am I, Clarke?” Octavia got up, her small frame wrapped in her light green robe with frogs on it she looked almost child-like. “Just eat something, throw back an aspirin or two and come with me to the fucking party.” she placed her hand on Clarke’s bare knee, making her look up at her.  
“I don’t know-“  
“Everyone is going to be there, Clarke.” Octavia pressed on, “If you don’t go you’ll be known as a buzzkill for all eternity.”  
“See, I don’t really have a problem with that opposed to what you might think.” Clarke said smartly. She didn’t want to go, she had her reasons, and it wasn’t because it was loud, not really, she just didn’t want to face her again. What happened... It still baffled her, rendered her setting in a chair for hours reliving the event and finding it both so intoxication and so strange she didn’t know what to do with herself.  
Octavia glared at her like she was some idiotic bonehead, “You’re going. I’ll make you, you know I can.” Octavia was all too emerged in what would be commonly known as “boy-sports”. Martial arts, fencing, kickboxing, wrestling, you name it, she had probably done it at some point. This was all very unfortunate for Clarke.  
“O, can’t you just go by yourself?” Clarke felt childish, having resolved to beg so easily.  
“No,” she took a firm hold of Clarke’s wrist, “you haven’t been to a party since May! You need to get back in the game again.” It was true what she said, she hadn’t been out to a proper party in months. May was three months ago.  
“I have plenty of game.” Clarke protested.  
“Yeah and ten thousand pregnant seagulls plummeted into the pacific last night.” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.  
“What?” Clarke furrowed her brows looking perplexed at Octavia.  
“Nothing,” Octavia shook her head, then stopped suddenly and returned to her original mission, “Quit being a little bitch and get back up on the party horse.” She pulled on Clarke’s arms yet again, Clarke let her body go heavy, making it harder for her friend to pull her up.  
“Do you want me to slap you?” Octavia threatened, looking more and more annoyed by each passing second, “You’re acting like a big baby.” Clarke knew that she was, but she’d taken it this far, she might as well follow through.  
Octavia continued talking as Clarke stayed silent.  
“I’ve been in a relationship for 2 years and you’re making it unbelievably difficult to live vicariously through you,” Clarke began feeling guilty even if Octavia’s words had been meant as a – slightly backwards – encouragement. “Look,” Octavia sighed and looked down at her hands, ”Lincoln is coming and my brother is even stopping by to say hey. Literally everyone we know is going and you, princess, just don’t feel like it? Why is that?” She let go of Clarke’s arm, it wasn’t a defeat Clarke knew that, she was merely changing tactics, now it was turning into an interrogation.  
“First of, quit calling me princess. That joke is dead,” she folded her legs in front of her, “And second, I just don’t feel like it.” Clarke angel her head to the side, gave Octavia one last resilient glare and turned her attention back on her book hoping she would just let it go, but she knew better than that.  
She was just about to lunge into yet another tirade of just how unreasonable and rude Clarke was being when the door was swung open and a dark, tall, bold figure walked in the room. Clarke recognized him immediately; it was Octavia’s boyfriend of 2 years now. Lincoln. His tall, broad shouldered frame occupied the entire door, his dark deep-set eyes looked nearly menacing as he first stepped into the room but all that changed in a split second as his eyes fell on Octavia and his entire face lit up like beacon in the dark.  
Octavia spun around spluttering, “Lincoln,” as soon as she saw him. The surprise was evident in the uttering of his name. He, however, didn’t exactly reply in words, instead he, not being able to contain himself, gripped Octavia and kissed her as if his life depended on it. She, of course, kissed him back with twice the passion and Clarke felt like a creeper in the corner all of a sudden, witnessing something she wasn’t supposed to.  
“Would you stop that, man. That’s my sister, I don’t need to see that.” Bellamy, Octavia’s big brother, said as he pulled on Lincoln shoulder, having gotten in the door a couple seconds after. Octavia immediately broke from her tall, muscular boyfriend to wrap her arms tightly around her brother who almost lifted her off the ground in the intensity of his greeting.  
After a couple seconds he let her go, a small smile on his face. Clarke would be lying if she claimed that Bellamy wasn’t at least good looking. The curly, tousled, dark hair, the spray of freckles across his nose, the devilish glint in his brown eyes and the permanent smirk on his lips all added to confirm his image as a bad boy. And even all that could have been manageable, if it hadn’t been for his wide shoulders and strong muscles, lining every inch of his body, making even the most resolute person drool slightly by the sight of him.  
“I didn’t expect you so early, weren’t we supposed to meet at the party?” Octavia questioned her brother confusion evident in her voice.  
“Lincoln wanted to see you, so we hit the road a couple hours early,” Bellamy explained, shooting a look at Lincoln that couldn’t quite be described. During the encounter Clarke felt more and more ridiculous in her dad’s old basketball pants and a grimy, stained t-shirt from the time their family had gone to see Grand Canyon. Just the outfit you wanted to greet your roommate’s hot elder brother in, or anyone hot in for that matter. So far from a flattering situation as it could be.  
Octavia turned to Lincoln and pressed a kiss to his lips, this time more PG-13 than the before, “I missed you too, Babe.” She muttered to him, and simply by the look in his eyes when she said it, Clarke was convinced they’d be married within months of the time Octavia graduated from college, if not before.  
Bellamy coughed very distinctly, “We’re checked into a motel close by.” he informed Octavia, probably trying to stop all the snogging going around. If so his planned worked and Octavia nodded and let go of her boyfriend, but when Clarke looked down she saw their hands were intertwined. “It’s called, what was it?”  
Lincoln helped, “the ark.”  
“So they only take two of each species?” Clarke muttered ironically, making their heads turn to her.  
Lincoln face immediately morphed into yet another smile, “Clarke!” he exclaimed. As a consequence of living in close quarters with Octavia for two years Clarke was well acquainted with Octavia’s friends as well as her small family consisting practically only of Bellamy, and Lincoln, the love of her life. The acquaintance didn’t run deeper than the one she had to her parent’s friends, and their encounters were fleeting so she barely knew anything about them, that she hadn’t been told by Octavia  
Lincoln went past Octavia and enveloped Clarke in a tight bear-hug, “nice to see you again, how are you?” Lincoln was a strange sort. The first time she had seen him, Clarke had been scared out of her wits, he was tall, dark, dangerous-look, but as soon as they got just a little acquainted with each other his entire behavior and posture seemed to change, revealing him as one of the biggest goofballs to ever tread the planet.  
“I’m good, thank you.” Clarke replied with a court, befuddled smile. Her thoughts rambled about her ragged attire, but Lincoln didn’t really seem to notice or care.  
“That’s a lie, she isn’t,” Octavia quickly shot, making Clarke shoot daggers at her. “Princess Clarke here isn’t joining the party tonight, she says.”  
“Why?” Lincoln asked in polite wonder. “Are you sick?” Apparently it was just as unbelievable to Lincoln that she would miss the event of the year just for a couple hours of sleep. Monty’s Parties were always an extravagant event hyped to the point of over exasperation, he was filthy rich and it didn’t really matter that he actually did throw parties frequently, they were always talked off as ‘the event of the year’.  
“No, I just got a lot of homework,” Clarke lied again, even though it was a shitty, transparent lie.  
“But term is already over, O said you both had your last exams yesterday,” Lincoln said, and without waiting for an answer he went on, “Clarke come on, Monty was really looking forward to seeing you, or have you grown boring over the course of a year.” his tone was playful confirmed by the crooked almost smile on his lips, “Is that it?” Lincoln was allowed to tease, but only because of the humorous glint in his eyes making it a little less offensive that it should have been.  
“I can be fun,” Clarke protested an offended look in her eyes. While she wasn’t a big party cat, being called boring wasn’t something she wanted to make a habit of.  
“Alright then,” Lincoln said, “see you at the party. We’ll make sure she is ‘fun’ won’t we Bellamy?”  
Bellamy obviously hadn’t been paying attention and spluttered, “What? Oh yeah sure.” probably not knowing what he was signing up to.  
“Now that’s settled,” Lincoln slapped her knee twice and turned to Octavia, “we’ll leave so you two can get dressed.” gently he pressed a kiss to Octavia’s lips, and headed out the door.  
Bellamy gave his sister a one-armed hug and muttered a goodbye against her hair, before he turned towards the door.  
“Oh,” he turned in the doorway, almost as an afterthought, leveling his dark eyes on Clarke in the bed and said, “nice outfit,” His brow angled up slightly and the smirk on his face only made his sarcastic tone even more invigorating. However Clarke couldn’t help but turn bright read with embarrassment and anger at him for having the audacity to point out how ragged she looked, but before she had a chance to arrange her thoughts into a spiteful comment he was gone.


	2. The game

Jasper

“I’m sorry dude.” Monty said, fidgeting with the cables to the DJ booth, “But her boyfriend is coming and no matter how awesome your game is, his game beats yours.”  
“Why did you invite him again?” Jasper mumbled. For ages he had fostered an undying crush on Octavia Blake the inhibitor and source of all his vivid daydreams, not to mention those who visited him in his sleep.  
“I invited everyone,” Monty explained. “The entire student body. When Octavia asked if she could bring her boyfriend and that brother of hers, it wasn’t like I could reject her. You know how she is.”  
“Couldn’t you just say that it was for students only?” Jasper agued, knowing it was a lost cause, he had seen them roll into the parking lot a couple of hours ago. If Monty cancelled now, he’d never hear the end of it. Especially from Octavia, who had a gift for throwing very scary tantrums.   
“I’m sorry, my friend,” Monty said and jumped down from the DJ podium and put his hand on Jaspers shoulder, “You’ll have to stop chasing after her, she is already taken.” he said as kindly as he could manage.  
“You don’t know,” Jasper said frantically, “she might choose me oppose to-“  
Monty broke him off, “Jasper. She barely knows your name.” He let his hand drop from Jasper’s shoulder. “Last time I heard her talk about you she called you ‘goggle-boy’.  
“Then I might introduce myself to her.” Jasper retorted.  
Monty licked his lips and looked away, then back at Jasper, his face strangely blank, “Okay, do that,” he said.   
“She won’t fall for you, Jasper,” Raven said, ever the ball of sunshine, as she put down a box of liquor at the bar, before she walked up to them, “she loves Lincoln and once you meet him I’m pretty sure you’ll like him too.”  
“You don’t know that!” Jasper objected, even though he knew he was 100 percent wrong. He’d done some cyberstalking on the matter of ‘Lincoln’. His results was a guy, who had more muscle than a bull, he ran his own gallery in the center of New York, and the man did part time modeling and some sort of insane sport where he jumped from one skyscraper to another. Jasper didn’t stand a fucking chance. “He might be-“  
Jasper, stop it,” she said firmly, “it’s time you got over her.” Raven interrupted him before he could get himself worked up over the catastrophic crush for Octavia, that couldn’t possibly work out  
“I know,” he muttered in reply, he hurt all over just saying it, but he knew it was true. Unfortunately that didn’t stop his heart from pumping whenever he saw her; it didn’t stop her from running around in his dream. It didn’t change anything, even if he needed to get over her, it didn’t change the fact that it had been 3 years and he still couldn’t let go  
“People will be arriving at ten.” Raven informed them as if they didn’t already know, “are you sure you have plugged in the DJ system properly?” her eyes leveled on Monty.  
“I take offence to that,” he held up an accusing finger in Raven’s direction, “I do story computer science, remember?” Monty said putting pressure on the last three words.  
Raven sighed and closed her eyes, and surprisingly, she let it go, “alright, but if it all fry we know who’s to blame.” Even though her tone was snarky Monty didn’t seem to take offence, he simply shook his head and pulled his phone out of his pocket.  
“I’ll have to go call my parents, hear how things are in Dubai.” and with that he slandered away, leaving Raven and Jasper alone. Raven, Jasper noticed, looked sad, smiling less than normal and dishing out plenty of borderline snarky comments ever since she arrived. Jasper had an idea why.  
“How are you and Finn?” he asked her in a quiet tone. Raven didn’t look up, but there was a slight twist in her features around the corners of her mouth, causing her to lick her lips in an attempt to hide the emotions Jasper was sure was running through her. She kept was inspecting her nails, something she normally never did.   
“We’re good, we skyped yesterday.” her words sounded clipped.  
“And nothing new from the front otherwise?” Jasper tried a small encouraging smile, but he didn’t think she saw.  
“No, he got a C on his oral math exam, so that’s something.” She suddenly looked up from her hands with a definitive look in her eyes. “Everything is fine, I’ll go check on the.. beer..” and then she was off, leaving Jasper all by himself.   
He sat there for a while not really knowing what to do with himself. He didn’t have beers to check on or cup people to call. Monty’s house, Jasper thought, was ridiculously large. He wasn’t fucking around when Monty said he lived in a mansion, if anything he was being humble, since the mansion had more in common with a castle or a palace than anything else. Jasper looked over the pool and deck area. The pool was humming slightly as the machine filtered the water, making ripples appear on the surface. Under an extended eave was the DJ both set up, in case of potential rain that never occurred anyway. Deckchairs stood scattered around the pool, colorful cushions on top. Small lamps hang on lines from eaves. Lanterns stood on the few tables, electronically driven of course, a guy once lit a deckchair on fire, people did stupid things when they were drunk. At the other end opposite the DJ booth was a bar, it was made of wood, bamboo, making everything look Hawaiian. At this moment Jasper thought it all looked glorious in the light of the down going sun sending its orange rays out in the last few minutes of sunlight. Jasper lifted his face to the sun, feeling it warm his skin. A light breeze hit skin. It was the perfect night for a party.  
“Where did Raven go?” Monty asked once he got back out again, putting his phone in his back pocket.  
“She needed to check something. “ Jasper muttered distracted, turning away from the setting sun to look at Monty.   
He nodded.  
“Have you talked to your parents about this?” Jasper asked, “sure, they’re alright with it?”  
“It’s all A –okay.” Monty confirmed.  
“Another last minute business trip?”   
“Yeah..” Monty breathed, his eyes darting to the ground only to return to their previous location on his face.  
Jasper sighed softly, “Sucks..”   
“Nah,” Monty put up a smile, “look at it this way, we get to throw the event of the year, yet again. You get to practice your game and I get to revive both our social status from ‘total nerds’ to ‘cool’.” Monty smiled, “if that’s not awesome, I don’t know what is.” They had to do this regularly, the parties, it gave them legend status for weeks afterwards, which was quite enjoyable.   
Jasper couldn’t help but laugh at that, “That’s a valid point. How’d you get a hold of all the booze this time?” he asked. Even though they’d done it before getting a hold of a small amount of alcohol for a small get together was one thing, buying it in truckloads to water the entire student that was something else entirely. No matter how many times you did it.   
“Jasper,” Monty said, “have you met me?”  
Jasper laughed again, realizing it what a valid point too. It always was. Monty was studying computer science and he’d been able to hack anything since he knew what hacking was. At thirteen he had managed to get them free access to a bunch of gaming sites and, this both him and Monty wasn’t nearly as outspoken about, a handful of porn sites. When his mother had found out, he thought, he wasn’t ever to see the light of day, but eventually she let it go, although she confiscated his computer much to his dislike. So of course he could get tons of alcohol sent to his door at the age of 19. Questioning that was idiotic.  
“I’ve got some herbs up in my room, wanna join me? Get a little buzzed before the party?” Monty grinned and Jasper followed him into the mansion.


	3. Secrets

Clarke

“Are you kidding me O?” Clarke stared at her reflection in the mirror. The dress clung to her body like a second skin, pushing her boobs up in her face, making it seem like she was almost choking on them. She didn’t really like her own reflection, her hips were too pronounced, the little bump on her stomach twice as large as normal. The blue fabric however brought out the blue in her eyes and complimented her skin nicely, which could be added as a plus. It was just too damn tight.   
“No, you look hot.” Octavia persisted, “ you just need…” she trailed off looking through her closet, stuffed with clothes, which, on a normal person, probably would have passed as underwear.  
“I look like a hooker.”   
“Watch it, that’s my dress.”  
“You’re ten sizes smaller than me!” Clarke tugged on the dress that was trying eagerly to transform into a shirt.  
“Don’t give me that, you’re hot. Where did I put it…”  
“I’m not wearing this shit.” Clarke stated trying to get to the zipper in the back.   
“No!” Her friend exclaimed. “You look so hot, you’ll have everybody drooling all over you!”  
Clarke shook her head, “I feel awkward and I don’t want people to drool all over me that’s disgusting.”  
“That wasn’t what I meant.” Octavia sighed.   
“I know.”  
Octavia, recognizing that her roommate’s stubbornness exceeded that of her own, went over and unzipped her dress. Clarke inhaled sharply, not realizing how snug it had been. She pushed the dress down and stepped out of it, where after Octavia snatched it off the floor to hang it up again.   
“What do you want to wear then?” Octavia asked folding her arms over her chest, still wearing her frog robe she looked adorable, like an unhappy kid instead of scary.   
“A pair of jeans and a t.shirt?” She answered slowly.  
Octavia glared at her, “you’re going to a party, not a funeral.”  
Clarke groaned and slumped down on her bed only wearing her underwear, staring at the ceiling. She could hear O going through the closets, garments falling to the floor and creating a complete mess of their room. Octavia was good at that.   
“What do you think I should wear then?”  
“The blu-“  
Clarke broke her off sharply, “I’m not wearing that blue deathtrap!”   
“Okay-okay!” Octavia sighed, “what about this?”  
Clarke heaved herself up and looked at the clothes she was holding up. A black denim skirt, obviously short for her own standards, but a bit more manageable she reckoned. The top was a loose dark blue t-shirt with a print on the front.  
“It’s the best I can do.” Octavia said.  
Clarke reached out and took it from her, “I can work with that.” Carefully she put on the clothes on feeling a lot more secure in herself than she had done in the last outfit. When she finished getting dressed she turned to face Octavia who had stepped out of her green, frog dotted robe and into-  
“What the hell are you wearing?”  
Octavia looked down herself, “what? It’s a dress!” the so called dress was light forest green and had no back. It was tied around her neck hanging down loosely in the front, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. The bottom half of the dress was nothing more than a tight skirt attached to the loose top, only covering her behind and the very top of her thigh.   
“It looks like a bathing suit.”   
“It’s not, and I look hot so shut up.” Octavia sat down on the bed and tugged on a pair of 6 inch heels in a nude color. Clarke suddenly felt like an ignorant school girl. Had the ‘party world’ suddenly become different from the last time she had visited it? Was a denim skirt and t-shirt suddenly so unfashionable, it was downright inappropriate?  
“Can I wear this at all? You look so…” Clarke mumbled, inspecting her rather plain self in the mirror. She didn’t look bad at all, she just didn’t look so daringly ‘fuck you, I’ll do whatever the hell I want’ sexy as Octavia did.  
“I told you to wear the dress.”  
“I’d look like a princess gone wrong, standing next to you in that thing.”  
“No, you-“  
Clarke broke her off, “Shut up, O. You know I’m right.”  
Octavia did as requested and shut up. Instead she went over to her closet and fished out a pair of heels, which would match the outfit perfectly. A pair of brown wedges, that clung to the foot making it harder for the wearer to trip and you could – if needed – break into a run and not potentially break your leg trying.  
“Hm?” Octavia offered holding them up. She knew Clarke wasn’t gonna go for the 8 inch platform heels still waiting patiently in Octavia’s closet. They didn’t really go with the outfit at any rate.  
“Thanks,” she took the shoes from Octavia and sat down to take them on. Octavia sat down to do her hair. A fishtail braid with the hair on top of her head and with two stands of the hair on either side of her head braided against her scalp, this was the moment where Clarke intercepted and helped her out with two tiny braids on either side. Octavia looked bone rattling sexy.  
“Now even I want to sleep with you.” Clarke said with a smile on her lips. Octavia laughed, seemingly not comprehending that Clarke might actually mean it.   
“Unfortunately I’m off the market.” Octavia smirked, the kind of smirk that slowly but surely turned into a toothy goofy grin.  
“It’s all for him, isn’t it?” Clarke returned the goofy grin.  
“If it goes according to planned, he won’t even know what hit him.”   
***  
They arrived at the party. It was loud, as expected. The front of the house was a large, with curved windows and doors, all in the fashionable Spanish build three story mansion. It seemed impossibly large. The night was warm, the stars up and trying to outshine the light from the city. Monty lived a mile or so out of town, making it the perfect location for a party since he didn’t really have any neighbors. His parents probably owned all the surrounding land for all everyone knew. They knocked on the door and were guided inside by a smiling stranger. They went through the foyer, into the living room and (one of many) and through a glass door to the pool area out back. People was already in, screaming, splashing, and shouting at each other. All drunk off their horses of cause. 

 

Octavia took hold of Clarke’s hand and lead her two the bar, having decided that shots were in order. They downed the first drinks of the night. Clarke looked at the watch on her wrist, 10:35 PM.  
The guy who gave them the drinks left leaving the bar unattended. Octavia and Clarke turned looking out into the happy crowd.  
“I’m gonna try to find Lincoln. I’ll come back.” And just like that, Octavia had left. Clarke sighed, and turned to face the bar again, hanging on it with her back to all the frolicking humans.  
“Fancy seeing you here.”   
Clarke looked up and froze. Completely dumbstruck. There she stood all frizzy hair and big green eyes, not to mention those lips, those fucking lips that were just begging to be kissed. Clarke tried in vain not turn tomato red that instant, needless to say she was very thankful for the dim light flickering lights of the lanterns.   
“Long time no see.” Lexa went on as Clarke had remained silent for an inappropriate amount of time.   
“What are you doing here?” was the first thing to come blurting out of Clarke’s mouth.  
“That’s a polite greeting.” Lexa laughed and shook her head, “can I get you something? You’re a lot more fun with a bit of alcohol in your system.”  
If Clarke hadn’t been flushed before, she sure as hell was now. She felt the memories, all slurred and flashy with intoxication but memorable none the less, emerging in her mind.  
She decided to focus on the more innocent part of her thoughts, because she didn’t know how to handle the other side yet, “You bartend here?”  
“No, I’m just nailing some free booze.”  
Clarke stared.  
“Yes, I’m bartending here!” Lexa shook her head, one of those small smiles on her lips that said she found the situation funnier than she did embarrassing.   
“You really ought to ease up, Clarke.” She put a glass in front of her. It was a mojito. Clarke took a sip, in need of less thinking and more confident words and praying to God getting sloshed was the way to find it.   
“I..” she breathed, then lost her trail of thought, before she’d even begun to pick one up miraculously.   
“You..?” Lexa repeated.  
Clarke took a bigger sip that turned into a gulp after half a second, then she leaned in and whispered so only Lexa could hear, “we slept together!” Her tone was intense and low, as if she was providing some very startling information.  
“I know,” Lexa had the audacity to giggle of all things, “I was there, remember?”  
If Clarke had had a shovel she had started to dig a hole to hide in.  
Lexa licked her lips, seemingly not noticing just how out of it Clarke seemed to be and went on, “I get off at midnight, save a dance for me? Wait-“ She went over to two guys, both wanting beers, only to return less than 30 seconds later. “Do we have a deal?”  
“Ah,” Clarke didn’t know what went through her head at that moment, other than a big load of nothings, “I’ll be around.” she agreed, which seemed to satisfy Lexa, because she smiled and moved on to serve other people but not before placing yet another shot in front of Clarke, not to mention the half drunken mojito she still had in her hand. She must have known Clarke was going to need it.  
“Bottom’s up.” she muttered to herself and threw back the second shot of the night.   
After two shots and half a mojito, the alcohol finally hit her, making her world all swirly. She blinked slowly, trying to will the feeling to go away. The reason for her – more than normal – obsession with schoolwork had a name; Lexa. What happened? Well there is no need indulging in details, but long story short, too much alcohol lead to Clarke in bed with a girl And not just any girl. Lexa the hot bartender slash super smart law major. It barely dawned on Clarke exactly what they were doing before she absolutely did not want her to stop whatever she was doing that felt so excruciatingly amazing. The next morning Clarke had tried in her mind to fathom the fact that she had, in fact, slept with a girl and enjoyed it, a lot. Going constantly over it again and again, was she gay? Like full on lesbian? Was she one of those who liked everything? On the way home, after the most awkward breakfast of her life, her long looks after Miller made her believe that she played for both teams.


	4. A mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My editor have been through the text this means that the party is now taking place in an outdoor pool area, instead of a warehouse, because I was a complete idiot I realised. :P

Raven

Finn was of course a no show yet again. No change there. “Of course I’ll be there, babe. I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he had said, then woop a surprise essay, woop his friend Harper had gotten herself a new car and he had to help her clean it, woop his parents came to visit him and so the list went on and on for an eternity. Great boyfriend, even better friend now she thought about it.   
Indulging in quantum mechanics was one of the only things complicated enough to keep her mind so thoroughly occupied that she seemingly forgot to think about him, well that and a problematic amount of alcohol. Right now she was shooting for the later solution.  
“Come dance with me!” she tugged Monty’s arm but he shied away and shook his head as he muttered “no, I don’t wanna.” Next she tried Jasper but he was no use either as he ogled Octavia from across the dancefloor, the hopeful fool. Thinking it over, she had to add one other person to the ‘hopeful fool’ list which had to be herself.   
“You guys suck.” Raven spit and swayed off. She walked at the outskirts of the pool next to the makeshift dance floor, feeling the bass of the music hit her repetitively in her chest.  
“Hey! Octavia!” She shouted and the pretty brunette turned around a gigantic smile spreading across her face.  
“Raven!” she exclaimed and before she could even think two thoughts, Octavia had enveloped her in a bone-cracking hug, “It’s so nice seeing you?! Where have you been?!” she exclaimed and then planted a hard, loving kiss on Raven’s forehead and then one on her cheek. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Octavia had been drinking, and quite possibly a lot.   
“Right here! I’ve just been hanging with goggle-boy.” Raven held onto Octavia, personal space was a foreign concept to both of them. “What’s the time?” she shouted.  
Octavia said she didn’t know, and Raven raised her head to shout to the people standing behind O, “HEY! WHAT’S THE TIME?!”   
She was graciously told that it was 2 AM by O’s boyfriend Lincoln, who she had only seen once or twice. In her drunken head Raven quickly assessed the state of things, (1) she hadn’t seen Clarke for a good part of an hour, last she saw, she was dancing with someone, now she was nowhere to be found. (2) Finn was still a fucking no show. (3)Octavia seemed happy and drunk, so she hugged her again, mumbling sweet drunken nonsense in her ear about how great she was and she heard Octavia mumble those words back and hug her even tighter.   
That was when Raven decided to open her eyes and over Octavia’s shoulder she felt her eyes zoom in on him. Tall, dark hair, kissable lips and a body twined with muscles everywhere. His shirt fucking clung to his frame for crying out loud. ‘You have a boyfriend, Raven.’ a tiny voice inside her mumbled but a group named alcohol, jealousy and loneliness seemed to be strangling that person.   
The guy looked up and then his dark eyes, the kind of eyes that screamed trouble! locked with hers. One of Raven’s biggest struggles apart from being away from her boyfriend, was that fact that this also meant she hadn’t got laid for almost six months. Six months where, for all she knew, he had been screwing this Harper chick, like who cleans up someone’s car with them and doesn’t expect something in return? Yeah, he was a cheating bastard.   
“O,” Raven broke from her friend, they were still close enough to have an arm around each other’s waist, “who is he?” Raven asked in her ear, nodding her head towards him. He was shooting darts a couple feet away out of hearing range.  
Octavia turned around, looking in Raven’s direction, “oh! That’s Bellamy, my brother. BELL!” She shouted his name to get his attention. He came closer, so O didn’t have to shout to be heard.  
“Bell, this is my friend Raven. Raven, my brother, Bellamy.” Octavia introduced and Bellamy held out his hand, Raven took it. His hands were work-worn, callused and rough yet his grip wasn’t uncomfortable or to firm. His skin, she noticed, even under the neon lights, had a dark complexion to it, of someone who didn’t lack sunlight.  
He gently took her hand between his own and leaned in to talk in her ear, she could smell the alcohol on his breath, along with other more pleasant masculine things no one ever really had the ability to but their finger on. “Hey Raven,” he said in her ear and leaned out to look at her face. His gaze didn’t waver or flicker once as she looked back at him, most people shied away from her piercing stare, looked down or up to avoid it, but Bellamy stared back at her without any signs of stopping.   
“Me and Lincoln are gonna hit the floor,” with that Octavia broke away from her, only to grasp her boyfriend and drag him onto the dance floor.   
“Do you want to dance?” Bellamy questioned.  
Raven nodded, because she did really want to dance.   
“Come,” Bellamy took a couple steps forward and suddenly they were walking side by side, his big hand on her waist, holding her close to him. He was so abnormally different from Finn, so big, so brooding, so strangely intense, she could almost say it made her gush just looking at him. It was fucking ridiculous, she knew as much.  
But since Raven, at that moment, contained more C2H5OH (alcohol) than H2O, she didn’t really think about how this hot stranger might fuck up her life.   
That’s when things started to blur, and wobble about. She had her arms around his neck. They were close; she could feel his hands on her hips still. Music, people, shouting, sweat, flashing neon lights all collided in one big glorious mess gobbling up her senses till they weren’t there. She remembered drinking more, she didn’t know when or who gave it to her. She remembered Bellamy, holding onto her, he was smiling. She smiled back. It felt nice. The liquor made everything nice and fluffy, cold, warmth, high and low sounds; everything had had its edge taken off. Except one solitary thing, physical touch, the good kind of touch seemed heightened by a thousand.   
They hadn’t talked much, not with words anyway. But this is what she knew so far: (1) he was Octavia’s – HOT – elder brother, (2) she had a feeling he was about 26, (3) he was a cop, this was some of the little information they had exchanged, (4) he was a gentleman or at least he hadn’t taken the first and best opportunity to grasp her ass, so he wasn’t a complete horndog. (5) Surprisingly he was a decent dancer. (6) He liked to drink rum and coke, sometimes beer. (7) He was better at the staring game than she was, unfortunately. That was seven things, that she knew about him with only very little actual information exchanged.   
His hands were in her hair, she couldn’t remember when she had let it down from her ponytail, but she had. Her hands mimicked his. Their bodies were swaying to the music, sweaty, hot and panting. Their foreheads were pressed together: she would feel his breath on her lips. Their hips rolling to the music together, that was the moment his hands found her ass, grasping it firmly and Raven didn’t mind one bit.   
She looked up at him. Handsome, ever so handsome, she leaned closer angled her head and then, just like that, they were kissing. She didn’t know if she was the one to lean in or if he was, but it didn’t matter to her. At first the kiss was almost shy, neither knowing what the other wanted, but then they sunk into it, their lips molded, moved and gave after for each other in perfect drunken sync. She made a strangled little moaning sound, and she felt him groan more than heard him.   
After some long hot minutes of kissing, Bellamy muttered, “Wanna get out here?” in her ear.   
“I know just the place.” was Raven’s hoarse reply, and she kissed him again because that he did well.  
She took him by the hand and led him through the maze of people towards the entrance to the house. They entered the living room, Raven lead him by the hand down a hall and up not just one, but two flights of stairs, till there was almost no people around them. She tried one door but that lead to yet another living room, this one smaller than the one down stairs. She knew that there was plenty spare bedrooms, she just had to yank the right door.  
She lead hum further down the hall and then turned the door and found a library with a ceiling light in the top. She walked in seeing an open door at the other end.   
“Where is the light..” She heard Bellamy mutter behind her. She was yet to figure out exactly how large Monty’s house was. He was so rich, it was disgusting. She had heard him debate with Jasper whether they should fill the pool with money and then proceed to swim in it for fun. The idea was discarded due to germ issues.  
“Don’t.” Raven reached behind her and grasped Bellamy’s hand tugging him with her towards the door opposite them. “We don’t want anyone to follow.” She led him out into yet another room. Hallway again. Suddenly she was yanked back and pushed against the wall, a second later his lips was on her, hungry and demanding and she returned the kiss with twice the force. It was a slobby, messy, lust-filled kiss – void of any real heartfelt emotions, but she didn’t give a damn. Her boyfriend was overseas probably shagging French models, her that Harper girl didn’t sound like good news either. He had acted strange for weeks, never returning her calls until several days later.   
She told herself she was going to end it, she knew very well that while he did claim to love her, he didn’t love her the way she wanted to be loved. Not from 5000 miles away, not with the doubt that he might be having fun with someone else.   
Was it a good idea to jump on Bellamy before she sorted out her own mess? Probably not, but she didn’t really give a rats ass. He was available, more than plenty attractive and his kiss was overpoweringly demanding in a way Finn’s had never been. He was something else and Raven didn’t mind submitting to the primal desire he induced in her. At least that she could understand, that she knew how to handle.  
She pushed herself off the wall, managing to guide them to the nearest door and –  
Jackpot.  
A bedroom, plain, seemingly unused, white walls, four poster bed, gray lining and a window with white ghostly curtains in front only letting in flickers of moonlight.   
“Take off your damn clothes,” she muttered against his lips and at the same time she pulled her own shirt over hear head. He obliged her.   
Next thing she knew they were a tumble of limbs on the bed. She didn’t have her pants on but she couldn’t pin point the moment she – or Bellamy – took them off. Bellamy was in the same position, in only underwear.  
She straddled him and he grasped her ass to push her body closer as the hungry, almost frantic kissing took over. She heard him making an animalistic sound much like a growl and then she was on her back and his warm, hard body was pressing down on her. She knotted her fingers in his curls and wrapped her legs around his waist.   
He kissed down her neck and she exposed the column of her neck to him, silently begging him to get on with it. At some point, once they both became naked, the franticness of it all disappeared only to be replaced with a crushing intensity. After the night’s events she remembered his smell and breath on her lips, his sweaty skin, the sounds they made. She remember when he entered her, the relief once he did it. The way he took her, fucked her the way Finn always was too scared to do. She remembered hitting her head on the headboard and yelping out, he had yanked her up to sit on his lap, Indian Kamasutra style, as a solution. She was too drunk to care about the rapidly approaching tomorrow, which for Raven didn’t start at twelve, but at six O’clock the next morning.   
Raven could tell on the decisive way that he moved that Bellamy wasn’t short of ‘action’. Raven had to admit it, he was better in bed than Finn. Of course the whole looking each other in the eyes intensely and feeling completely lost and yet still found in the arms of someone you utterly adore wasn’t there, not even by far, but Bellamy knew how to work a woman’s body. Even if he still banged her head on the headboard 4 times, accidentally bit her a little too hard somewhere private once and at one point got the both of them to timber off the bed in one big limb tangle, where he even managed to give her an elbow in the chest, knocking the air out of her while their hips was still conjoined, his skill outdid Finn’s.  
She didn’t remember stopping or falling asleep, nothing, she must have passed out from exhaustion or something else entirely, because the next thing she remembers is the sun in her eyes. Tomorrow had come. Slowly she sat up in the bed and looked around the room. It was a mess. The sheets were on the floor along with hall their clothes. The floaty curtains weren’t withholding any of the glorious sunlight – or not so glorious to rRaven with her oncoming hangover and the significant mistake she had almost certainly made that night. To make it all more definitive she lifted her head to see what she could already feel. Yep, she was as naked a newborn baby. Brilliant.   
It took her a surprisingly long time to register that Bellamy wasn’t there next to her sleeping. She rubbed her eyes with one hand leaning on the other, listening to the birds, and the sound of running water. The sound that concluded, that it was indeed morning and time to deal.   
It took her yet another embarrassingly long moment to figure out that the reason why she could hear running water was because Bellamy, who she had in her morning grogginess suspected of eloping before she awoke, was in the shower. She suddenly wished that he had just left, this meant, she probably (if she couldn’t get out of bed and on with her clothes say… within 5 minutes?) had to deal with her mistakes (Bellamy.)  
Two minutes later that problem strolled into the room again. “You’re awake.” he observed. Around his waist was wrapped a white towel, his hair was wet, dripping clear perfect drops onto his broad, muscular shoulders. Raven was somehow pleased that he was good looking. At least she hadn’t been seeing that part through her clouded beer goggles.  
She pulled up the duvet trying to hide her body even though he probably already knew exactly what she looked like.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” his tone was plain, uninterested as if it didn’t matter to him whether or not they talked about what they’d done. It would result in the same. Maybe if she had been someone else she would have been offended, even hurt by his indifference towards her. If she had been more like Finn, or maybe Jasper or Monty she wouldn’t have been able to separate love from sex, but as it was, she was perfectly aware of the difference and not just that, she had the ability to separate the two. What they’d done had been purely a carnal, a horny getaway from all the other overly emotional shit-storms they had to face every day. At least that was Raven’s view.   
“No,” she answered, mimicking Bellamy’s bored, indifferent tone, sort of surprised she could even speak. She swung her legs over the bed and taking a minute to think about it she stood up, nothing he hadn’t already seen. “Just be gone when I get out of the shower.” she demanded as she crossed the short space to the bathroom door. She could feel Bellamy’s eyes on her, but he wasn’t drinking in the sight of her or looking for ways to ‘stick it to her’, he was simply looking as you would at any other normal and dressed person on the street.  
She closed the door after her and took a long hot shower, relieved in the way she felt the sweat, grim and other substances were cleansed from her body. Pure bliss. Once she got out of the shower she wrapped a nearby towel around her body, wondering why they were even there in the first place, since the room didn’t seem to be used regularly but decided not to question it.  
She walked out – he was gone of course - and got dressed slowly, the longer she took the farther she postponed the dealing with things part. So slowly she got dressed, feeling how her body ached in both good and bad ways. She walked over and stared at herself in the mirror, she looked as she ought to, like someone with a major hangover and guilt weighing on her shoulders. Fantastic.  
But as she looked down she saw a folded piece of paper, it didn’t have a name on it, but Raven knew it was meant for her. She picked it up and unfolded it revealing six short words in a messy uneven writing.  
If you ever need a playmate  
Underneath it was a number, she knew exactly whose it was, He hadn’t even needed to sign it. She crumbled it in her hand and was about to throw it into the trash when she stopped, rethinking his offer and what was probably in store for her the next couple of days, she shoved the note into pockets of her jeans  
She turned towards the door, “alright, time to deal.” she muttered to herself and with that she left the confinements of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post fridays or saturdays depending on me and my editors schedule :P does anyone like this story so far?


	5. Spiral

Clarke 

Her thoughts had started to swirl a bit, that mojito really hit her hard – truck kind of hard. She started giggling a lot for no apparent reason. The room fluffed around a little, she laughed at that too.  
“Hey beautiful,” she felt someone wrap their arms around her from the side and kiss her cheek. She turned her head, it was Octavia. “Who got you all silly drunk?”  
“mmm, over there. She. Drinks.” Clarke blurted drunkly.  
“Come on, lets get some food in you. Did you eat anything at all before we left?” Octavia started guiding her towards the door, out into the hall and into the deserted private kitchen that she had visited only because Monty invited Clarke, and Jasper guilted Monty into inviting Octavia, even if Monty wasn’t so fond of her. Gently, Octavia sat Clarke down at the dinner table. She laughed again and raised her drink to take a sip of it –   
“I’ll take that for a hot minute.” she snagged the drink from Clarke and took it over to place on the counter, before she opened the fridge, “So I can offer you… left over spaghetti, eggs…” she opened some draws took out a bowl with film over it, “and… something I don’t know what’s supposed to – AH!” she exclaimed loudly, “hot-pockets!” She took out the box and put something in the microwave, Clarke watching her lazily.   
“You know what O?” Clarke muttered, turning her head to the side as Octavia turned to face her, “you’re really beautiful.” her tone was soft, the kind of drunk sincerity that was more adorable than truly believable.   
“You’re even more beautiful, you drunk little moron,” Octavia said sweetly as she walked over and hugged her.   
“No, but I mean like you’re so pretty,” Clarke breathed into Octavia’s hair.  
She giggled and broke away from the hug, “you’re a goddess, C,” Octavia smiled, stroking back Clarke’s hair, “You’re also so lightweight I am wondering how you don’t just fly away.”   
“Noooo, I’m a little drunk.” Clarke said holding up her hand pinching her fingers close together and swaying in her chair. “just a little bit.”  
“Yeah,” Octavia breathed, nodding ever so slightly, “I know, sweetie, and it’s only eleven o’clock.” She tugged a stray piece of Clarke’s hair behind her ear and gave her a small smile.   
“O? Are you in here?” called someone’s deep, dark voice.   
“In here,” Octavia shouted turning back her head as a tall dark hair man appeared. Some strange smirk arranged itself on Clarke’s face, she had no restrains and he was good-looking – sort of. He didn’t really stand still.  
“What happened to her?” he crossed his arms standing behind O, he looked very cop-like standing like that. Intense fellow.  
“Too much alcohol and not enough food.” Octavia sighed and got to her feet as the microwaves beeped. She opened it and pulled the hot-pocket out on a platter, before going to place it in front of Clarke. “eat up.” she demanded. Clarke’s mouth just watered looking at it so she didn’t need any true encouragement and quickly dug in.  
“O! Come on! You’ve got to see this, Jasper is killing it on the floor!” a person shouted in almost childlike excitement as his head poked in the door. “You’ve got to see this!” he repeated. Clarke looked up, finding Lincoln in the doorway.   
“Sorry, I have to look after Clarke.” Octavia replied with a slight shrug, but her face showed just how badly she wanted to go.   
The dark haired man walked up to her, “go with him, this is your party time, not mine.” He gave her a soft smile and took the spoon from her. “Go, I’ll handle it. Her.” He inclined his head towards Clarke as he said it.  
Octavia gave her brother a short hug, “thank you, I love you.” She then kissed his cheek and staggered out of the room in her high heels, abandoning Clarke with a stranger. She turned back to the food in front of her, munching down every last bit and surprisingly her head cleared a little. She pushed the plate away and leaned back in her chair with a heavy content sigh.  
“All done?” He asked his tone bored and indifferent. Clarke nodded and he took away the plate and discarded it in the sink. She watched him do so, suddenly recalling his name, not that she had forgotten, her mind just wasn’t in its right place. He was Bellamy Blake  
“I want my drink back;” she stated, watching as he turned back around to look at her, leaning against the steal metal counter.   
“Are you sure you can handle it?” once again he crossed his arms over his wide chest, if Clarke didn’t know any better she would think he was glaring at her. But why should he glare at her at all? What had she done to him?  
“Of course I can.” she assured, sounding maybe a little more confident than she felt at that very moment. The food had been good for her, sponging up all the liquor in her stomach making her able to think a little straighter, and not possibly hurl up her intestines.   
He kept just standing there, watching her like some big hawk for a minute before he slowly took hold of her drink and went over to sit it down in front of her. “Take it slow this time.”  
She made a mock salute, rolling her eyes and grasped the drink. Slowly she took a sip and moved around on her seat more uncomfortably.  
“You don’t have to hover over me.” She told him. He didn’t budge, instead he actually sat down on the chair next to her.  
“I promised O I’d handle you.” He didn’t elaborate; maybe he didn’t feel like he needed to. And Clarke didn’t feel like asking.  
She shook her head and let out a breath of air, “I don’t need handling.”  
The tiniest of scoffs exited his nose and mouth before he closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, watching her with an amused smile on his lips. Obviously he found her statement hilarious for some reason.  
“Don’t give me that…” unfortunately for Clarke, her body seemed to be working against her and she let out a loud, obnoxious burb, and blushed a deep shade of crimson. If it had been Octavia, sitting on that chair instead of her brother, they’d just have laughed it off, but he, Bellamy, was a stranger to her. Her mother would have been horrified at Clarke’s behavior she knew that much. If her dad hadn’t stopped her she would probably have eaten every meal with white gloves on.  
Clarke pressed her lips together tightly and slapped her hand over her mouth, staring for a bit at him. He was staring back at her, his jaw set, however the corners of his mouth was twitching ever so slightly and that was all it took. Clarke let out a snort like laugh as she tried to exhale, and then she simply laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said trying to stop her giggling hysteria, but Bellamy seemed to be smiling too, which was a comfort, at least he wasn’t glaring anymore, “I’m not supposed to do that in public.” she hid her face in her hands.  
“No, probably not,” he agreed for once sounding amused, so amused, that he was actually smiling, “but it was a great burb.”  
Clarke sunk into the chair and then all of a sudden heaved herself back up, “I think I’l- wow.” the world spun as the blood rushed to her feet leaving her to grasp the chair not to fall over on the spot.   
“You okay?” he asked, he didn’t even seem to have moved so, let’s be honest, it wasn’t like he was all that worried.  
“I’m fine,” she shook her head and stabilized herself. Blasted heels, she should never have worn them, they were deathtraps. She would break her neck, she was sure of it.  
“Sure, you don’t need to sit down?”   
“I’m good thanks.” she said quickly and started forward, taking a couple steps, before turning back, “Do you want anything to drink?” she asked almost as a second thought. She didn’t like him, but she was done drinking on her own. It was boring.  
“I shouldn’t drink with minors, I’m a cop.” he said in the same indifferent tone that made absolutely no fucking sense to her what so ever. Shouldn’t he be like, feeling something?   
“Should I make a run for it?” Clarke asked. If he was a cop, didn’t he have to stop this mayhem? A lot of underage drinking was happening. Wasn’t it his pacific duty to do so? Clarke didn’t know. But then again, it would probably ruin Octavia’s reputation if he did.  
“I’m off duty. Besides, it’s college, you’re going to do whatever the hell you want anyway.” he stood up, “I’m gonna get a drink.” he stated as if Clarke hadn’t just offered just that, he walked past her.  
“I’ll go with you.” And she did, following him, not realizing, until it was too late, where they’d end up.  
Lexa. Fuck.  
“So what can I get you?” Lexa asked Bellamy slamming her hands on the table. She flashed a bright smile at Clarke not seeming bothered at all. Unfortunately Clarke still freaked out whenever she saw her. She was still trying to wrap her mind around that they- never mind, better not to think about that.  
“Rum and coke.” he said, tapping his fingers on the table in a repetitive motion as he looked up at Clarke who stood beside him. Lexa went over to make the drink. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” he breathed. He couldn’t have been more right, except this ghost in particular seemed to be haunting her.   
“What?” she asked, shaking herself out of a stupor.  
He repeated.  
“Oh!” Clarke explained, “I just faded out for a second.” Her mind was constantly leading her to the same place, her eyes darting to Lexa who stood with her back to the bar, mixing the drink. Clarke’s eyes travelled down without her permission.  
“Hm,” Bellamy grunted.  
Lexa turned back around, drink in hand, all smiles and beautiful green eyes.  
“Here’s your drink.” she placed it in front of Bellamy, before she turned to Clarke, who had quickly averted her eyes back to Lexa’s face, ”back for more?” Lexa smiled widely.  
“What?” Clarke nearly shouted, thinking of another meaning those words might have. “I-“  
“Alcohol, Clarke, you want anything?” Lexa elaborated however the glint in her eyes showed that she knew exactly what she had been implying. Sneaky bitch.   
“No I-“ she raised her glass which was still working on.   
Lexa gave a short nod, and the twitch of a smile, before she looked down at her hands. Clarke got stuck on her lips, their plump kissable-ness mesmerizing her. That was until Lexa was called away to serve another eager costumer.  
“So you’re staring at her too ha?”   
Clarke’s head snapped back to look at Bellamy, who sat beside her sipping his drink. Clarke blushed again, she really should learn to be less obvious.  
“What?” she quaked, and cleared her throat.  
“You, staring, at her.” he said slowly and pointed discretely at Lexa who was leaning over the counter to laugh with some guy.  
“I’m not staring at her.” Clarke muttered, but she kept looking from him to something behind him, not being able to look directly at him.   
“No?” his eyebrows quirked up as he angled his head slightly to the side. So unbelievably cocky.  
“No.” she stated a bit harder.   
“Okay.”  
“Fuck you.” she muttered, knowing full well he didn’t believe her one bit.   
He snorted and shook his head, smiling that strange daring, cocky smile, his dark curly hair falling into his eyes. Clarke, however, felt annoyed. Not amused.  
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked putting his drink down on the table.   
Clarke didn’t know what he meant, she didn’t know exactly how perceptive he was, that little bastard. “Talk about what?”  
“The fact that you’re crushing on the bartender,” he smirked.  
“I’m not crushing on the bartender.” she rejected him again in as strong a voice as she could manage.  
“Quit rejecting it, it was all over your face.”   
Clarke sighed and leaned her head in her hand, and closing her eyes not to tell him to fuck himself again. She was drunk sure, but spilling her dirty secrets to her roommates cop big brother, no thank you.   
“So, what’s the story?” he went on, “You wouldn’t look so flustered if there weren’t one.”   
“What are you a detective?” Clarke shot angrily, “quit bugging around in my mess.” her tone was hard and displeased, yet another state of drunkness she was enduring.   
“So there is a mess? I wasn’t sure.” Cocky son of a bitch, was Clarke’s only thought, well, apart from fuck.  
“Oh my fucking god,” Clarke tilted back her head, “how can I get you to shut up and leave me alone?” If only she had known it would have been this easy.   
“Already done, princess,” and just that, he got up and left Clarke drinking alone, sitting by the bar like some sort of sad loner. Maybe a cocky son of a bitch was to prefer, considering drinking alone, was the ultimate low.   
“I’m gonna kill him,” Clarke muttered felling like throwing her glass at his back which just told her how drunk she still was.  
“Kill who?” she looked up being faced with Raven. “I’ll drive the getaway car.” she put her beer down on the table and sat down crossing her lean legs. She was wearing jeans and a blue shirt – which sent Clarke back to her debacle with Octavia earlier that night. Raven was even more casual than she was, but then again Raven actually was too tough and cool to give a crap about proper dresscode.   
“Just this guy, you wouldn’t know him,” Clarke shrugged it off and sat up straight in her chair, “so, having fun?”  
“No, nobody wants to dance with and well, I just figured Finn is cheating on me.”  
“What!”  
“Yeah he bailed on me yet again. He said over and over that he’d be here tonight , but he’s a no show.” Raven flicked her tongue over her lips in a way that ways warned Clarke of how angry she really was.   
“I’m sorry.”  
“No you’re not, you’re wasted.” A small smile played on Raven’s lips as she said it. Maybe she found it funny. Clarke’s mouth hung open not quite knowing what she was supposed to say apart from denying it, which was a complete waste of course. Raven chattered on, “Look at any rate I’ll break it off with him. Long distance. Not my thing.”  
“Why not?” Clarke asked and took another sip of her drink, it was nearly empty.  
“Are you kidding? I’m dying to fuck someone. At first I thought I only wanted to be with Finn, but then after 2 years, now I’m ready to hump right about anyone.”   
Clarke giggled at her, “anyone?” she raised her brows.  
“No – stop looking at me like that,” her lips merged into a smile, ”you look insane,” Raven held her hand over Clarke’s eyes as if to shield herself from the insanity.  
Clarke swatted her hand away. “Shut up,” she laughed, “look if you want to get laid why aren’t you chasing some tail?”  
“You shouldn’t talk like that, ‘chasing tail’, you’re not Jasper.” Raven commented, avoiding the question all together.  
“Would people stop telling me what I can’t do, jeez,” Clarke sighed heavily, “it’s all people tell me tonight.” Clarke rested her head in her head, feeling annoyed, drunk and tired of being told what she shouldn’t or couldn’t do.  
“Okay, so what do you want to do?” Raven inquired, luckily for Clarke, Raven didn’t know about her little rampage with hot lacrosse playing super-hot law major Lexa and Clarke wasn’t about to share her stupidity with her, or that was what she thought until her drunken mouth decided it was time to betray her.  
“I’ll want to do Lexa,” she sighed like the idiot she was. Then she flushed realizing what she had just said.  
Raven started laughing, however Clarke remained red faced and silent.   
“Oh my god you’re serious, you’re?-“ again Clarke remained suspiciously silent telling Raven all that she needed to know, “okay, I didn’t know that.” she cleared her throat and looked around, “okay, so I think a ‘welcome to the club’ is in order.” she licked her lips nervously and cleared her throat again, “cool. So Lexa huh? Who… is that again?”   
“It’s the girl bartending,” Clarke’s voice was so small it was almost none existent. It was a miracle Raven actually heard her, because she perked up looking behind Clarke at Lexa who was helping out other booze-happy individuals.   
“She is hot, I’ll give you that.”  
“I know,” Clarke sighed, “I just have this… problem..”  
“Which is?” Raven uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, suddenly all business.   
“I can’t seem to speak like a normal human being around her.” she looked down embarrassed.  
“You’re cute,” Raven smiled and put her hand on her knee, “Look just relax, drink some more, and try not to think about how you feel, just, focus on her, ask her questions, forget yourself for a moment.”  
“Does that ever work?” Clarke questioned, wondering if she should mention the fact that they’d already slept together. Probably not. Raven sat back in her chair.   
“No, maybe, I don’t know, I technically still have a “boyfriend”” she said using air quotations around boyfriend, “so what do I know?” then she laughed, “anyway, what do you have to lose?”  
It was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but Clarke answered anyway, “my dignity.”  
“Know what the great thing about parties is? If you fuck up, blame it on the alcohol?” Raven suggested with a slight shrug.  
“Blame what on the alcohol?”   
Clarke snapped up to look at her, Lexa.   
“Everything,” Raven said, apparently noticing that Clarke was completely dumbfounded, “I see you’ve been getting my friend drunk.”  
Lexa smiled, “perhaps, at little bit, but it’s technically my job.” she grinned, “I’m Lexa.” she reached her hand over the counter to shake hands with Raven.  
“Raven Reyes.”  
Clarke was still stuck somewhere around ‘blame it’, having zoned out of the conversation as soon as Lexa appeared, immediately enchanted by her. Maybe she was a witch? No. Yes. Maybe. Whatever.  
Lexa gave Raven a nod and let her hand go, “So Clarke,” she turned to her, “I’m off in 10, you still owe me that dance.”   
Clarke’s mouth was hanging open. Raven kicked her under the table.  
“Hey!” Clarke shouted at Raven who gave her a very intense look that said very clearly ‘say something you idiot!’  
Clarke snapped back to Lexa again, “yeah, that’s right!” Clarke smiled and it wasn’t a fake smile, for once she was actually excited.   
“Awesome,” Lexa smiled, “I’ll be back here in a minute I just, wait, you need anything?”  
Clarke looked down at her drink, “actually I am running out of fuel.” she handed her glass over to her.  
“Another mojito or are you fancying something new?” she took the glass from Clarke.  
“Surprise me,” and then Clarke shot her, the most confident smile she had been able to conjure all night.  
Lexa nodded and moved away.  
“Want me to get lost?” Raven asked leaning in.  
“Little bit actually.”   
Raven laughed but got up and left, swaying over to pester Jasper and Monty. She wrapped her arms around Jasper and kissed his cheek, in a very platonic, you’re my cute friend kind of way. Clarke turned back to the bar, watching Lexa work out of the corner of her eye.   
Lexa came back and placed the drink in front of her, “a sex on the beach,” she declared, “I’ll serve those two and I’ll be all yours.” she wandered off.  
Like some silly school girl Clarke started stroking her hair making sure it was in place, and not a complete haystack. She felt silly, they’d already been at it, there shouldn’t be any pressure. Problem was, last time she didn’t know what was going on, she was just hanging with a new girl friend before she was making out with her against a wall in the dorm hallway. Now, she was aware. Now, she knew what might happen, god damn, she even wanted it to.   
“Hey gorgeous.” Suddenly she was there, on the other side of the bar. Her arms wrapped around Clarke’s waist to hug her, and then as the devious Satan that she probably was she whispered in Clarke’s ear, “I’m all yours now.”  
She was so screwed.  
***  
They’d been dancing for what felt like hours, drinking for half of that. Clarke had her arms wrapped around her waist, Lexa had her arms around Clarke’s shoulders, her smell was all around her intoxicating. Clarke had forgotten about being shy, forgotten that nobody knew that she was probably not all straight at all, she didn’t care. Nobody cared, everyone was caught up   
Her hands went into Lexa’s hair on their own accord, feeling the soft curls once again. It was softer than she remembered. The song was some remix dance mix with a heavy sexy beat that made Clarke’s blood pump to the beat, or at least it felt that way. It enchanted them both, slowing their dance, making them come closer, more hands tangled in hair, heat everywhere. It was different, she knew, she knew where it would probably end up and she wanted it to.   
She remembered looking at her, she was so close, right there in front of her face, green eyes, plump lips, beautiful. Lexa didn’t say anything to her either, just looking, the want crystal clear in her eyes. Clarke could see it. It was alive, she knew Lexa could see the same in her.  
And then just like that, Lexa leaned in and kissed her. First only with a little pressure, but then harder and Clarke returned it, kissing her back, almost relieved. She had been replaying her kisses all night, they were so god damn good. Pressure was building, the kind of pressure she could feel pulsing all around her. The kind that you could only feel once in a blue moon, when you were a part of something bigger than yourself, with someone so enchanting you didn’t mind letting go. Of control, yourself, everything. Clarke forgot her grades, her demanding parents, she forgot all those small things, they didn’t matter. What mattered was the girl in front of her in that very moment.   
“Do you want to find somewhere private?” she whispered into Lexa’s ear when she broke from the kiss. Lexa nodded and kissed her again. They tumbled down halls, giggling and tugging each other close, feeling the heat of the other’s body. A door shut and Clarke was pressed against it. The music was turned down, only a faint echo.  
Lexa had her pressed against the door, kissing her hard, Clarke was returning every last effort. It felt fantastic, alive and pulsing.   
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Clarke breathed quickly as Lexa moved to nibble and kiss love bites on Clarke’s neck.   
“Me neither,” Lexa muttered and broke from her neck. She looked flushed, her cheeks red, eyes alive, her lips red from kissing. Not being able to help herself Clarke leaned in placing a soft kiss on her lips, lingering there just for a bit feeling a lips skim hers. That was when Lexa kissed her again, and again and again. Clarke didn’t think she stopped, but she didn’t want her too. It felt so fucking good.   
At some point she was unhooked from the door, at some point they both lost their clothing, at some point everything turned into moaning and giggling, hands everywhere, touching parts of her body that she felt more comfortable sharing with Lexa than any guy she had been with. Lexa knew was she was doing, guys didn’t. Maybe it was the drunken idiocy, but she, for once, actually felt like a god damn princess.   
It was pure luck that they’d found a bed room, but Clarke didn’t take notice of much of it, only that the bed was big and comfortable and that there wasn’t anybody else in the room, which was more than enough for her.   
Clarke wasn’t as experienced and fumbled quite a bit, shaky hands, accident upon, unfortunate accident. Was she nervous? Yeah. Was she sober? No. was she doomed to fail from the beginning? No doubt.  
“Relax,” Lexa whispered to her tugging her up and cradling her face and kissing her ever so softly, lips, cheeks, nose, forehead at a time. “Come here,” Lexa beckoned softly, and she obliged, leaning in again, kissing. Her hands wandered slowly on Lexa’s body, exploring it more carefully this time. The kiss was slow as if they had all the time in the world. Clarke’s Body lying half on top of hers, their soft skin pressed together. Somehow Lexa got her hand to her chest tugging the nipple, sending pure exquisite torture through her, slowly but surely riling her up. Her own hand did the same, mimicking that of the more experienced. Even with having done this once before she still didn’t have a clue about what she should do and when, and to be honest, she was a little scared to do it. It was still so new.   
“Lexa,” she moaned and the subject in question hummed in return as she tailed kisses down Clarke’s neck. Tingle, sparks, fire was going every which way and Clarke couldn’t possibly be happier that Octavia had managed to drag her along to the party.   
Unfortunately, that was the moment the door decided to open and they both flinched around to look at the very unwelcome intruder. He had stopped dead in his tracks, staring, but not in a way a guy , who has just caught two girls doing it, ought to.   
It was Wells, and he looked completely horrified.  
“Clarke,” he quaked as soon as he saw her face, and probably a lot more than he bargained for since her rear was turned in his general direction and she wasn’t wearing any bottoms. Clarke’s heart had stopped beating, it wasn’t that she was caught with a girl or with Lexa or the fact that he could probably see all her hidden goods.. Okay, so maybe that too a little bit. But more so was it the fact that it was Wells, her best friend. And she had never in her life seen that look on his face.   
Lexa beat her to a reply as she shouted, “GET OUT YOU PERV!” and threw a nearby pillow at him. For a minute he didn’t seem to budge but then she shouted again, “GET OUT!” and he left, slowly closing the door, leaving Clarke rattled to her bones.


End file.
